Edwy the Fair or the First Chronicle of Aescendune eBook

“Fire the castle, every portion of it; fire
the stables, the barns, the outbuildings; we will
leave a pile of blackened ruins for Edgar when he
comes; the halls where the princely Edwy has feasted
shall never be his, or entertain him as guest.”

Meanwhile, the dark forces, unseen by the destroyers,
were still surrounding the castle, deploying on all
sides to surround it as in a net; for they saw the
intention of their victims, and meant to cut off all
chance of escape.

But the position of the brothers seemed as perilous
as ever—­for how could Edgar’s troops
rescue them if the place were once on fire? Alfred
gazed with pallid face upon Oswy, but met only a resigned
helpless glance in return.

Yet, even at this moment of awful suspense, a voice
seemed to whisper in his ear, “Stand still,
and see the salvation of God.”

“It must be soon then,” replied Oswy;
“soon, my lord, for they have already set the
place on fire, just beneath us; can you not smell the
smoke?”

Just at that moment came the war cry of the Mercians,
and the charge we have already described.

It was during the following few minutes, while Ragnar
and all his men were vainly striving to extinguish
the conflagration they had raised—­ for
the dry timber of which the hall was chiefly built
had taken fire like matchwood—­it was while
the friends without were preparing to attack, that
a sudden change came over the patient.

“Alfred, my brother!”

Alfred looked round in surprise; consciousness had
returned, and the face was calm and possessed as his
own.

“Elfric, my dear Elfric!”

“What does all this mean? How came I here?
What makes this smoke?”

“We are in danger, great danger; prisoners in
our own house, which they have set on fire.”

“I remember now—­is not this our dear
father’s room?”

“Yes; we are prisoners in it, they have barred
the door upon us.”

“But they cannot bar us in: there is another
door, Alfred; one my father once pointed out to me,
but told me to keep its existence a secret, as it
always had been kept. Who are without?”

“The Mercians, Edgar’s army, come to deliver
us; if we can reach them, we are safe.”

“I thought they were our foes, but all seems
strange now. Alfred, lift up the tapestry which
conceals the recess where dear father’s armour
hung.”

Alfred complied.

“Now, just where the breastplate hung you will
find a round knob of wood like a peg.”

“Yes, it is here.”

“Push it hard—­no, harder.”

Alfred did so, and a concealed door flew open; he
stepped through it with a cry of joy, and found himself
on the staircase leading up from the postern gate
by which he had entered, just below the closed door
which led into the gallery above.